


The Oldest of Questions

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Cabin Fic, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3283463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was fun. Winding Daniel up was so damned easy sometimes. He’d had close on two decades of practice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Oldest of Questions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sid/gifts).



> SG-1 fandom lost one of its staunchest supporters, sid, last month. A friend to many, she was an inspiration to many more, including me. I had known her for a long time, and one of our first conversations ended up with the never-gets-old Daniel: Boonie v Bandana debate.
> 
> I wrote this as a final gift for her, to say thanks for so many great Jack/Daniel memories.

“Can I ask a question?”

Jack turned his head lazily towards Daniel. He’d been dozing, on the very cusp of an afternoon nap out here in this comfortable lawn chair by the lake on a fine summer’s day. He wanted to be pissed at the intrusion but he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed. It was Daniel. His voice had dragged him back from the dead, brought him out of nightmares. How often had he needed to hear it over the years? It would be churlish to be irritated by it now. Even if he was. “If you must.”

Daniel put down his book and adjusted his tattered old boonie to his satisfaction, sitting it squarely on his head.

“Back when I wore this for work, did you think I looked hot in it?”

Jack pursed his lips. “I wasn’t allowed to think that way.”

Daniel looked at him, blinking in the Minnesota sunshine. “You did, though. Think that way.”

Jack shook his head in exasperation. “Of course I did. I’m only human. Except for when I was a robot, and he had the hots for his Daniel, too, by the way. Not sure if I ever told you that.”

Daniel blinked again. His nose was peeling. You’d have thought that, by now, after several years of retired summers spent at the lake, he’d have known how to cope with the unfiltered rays of the sun. Still. It was exceedingly cute.

“You didn’t. I guessed, though. Jacks without Daniels never work. He was a lost soul. If robots can have a ... soul.”

They thought about that for a minute.

Daniel eventually broke the silence. “I always believed you thought I was a dork when I wore it. Made me more civilian than military. _Even_ more civilian. Back when you believed civilian was a bad thing. ”

“Actually, the bandana did that.” Jack’s thoughts drifted back to all those planets where Daniel hid his hair beneath what Jack secretly termed ‘a headscarf with attitude.’

Daniel looked affronted. “Bandanas were ideal off-world headwear. They were easy to pack, versatile, comfortable.”

“They hid your hair.”

“My hair.”

“I loved your hair when it was long. All floppy and adorable. I used to fantasize about running my hands through it. Pushing it away from your face and then holding your face and kissing you senseless.” Jack coughed, mildly embarrassed to be sharing the fantasy all these years later. “The bandana stole that from me. At least with the boonie I could still see your hair.”

“So ... boonie wins.”

Jack scrunched up his face as he gave the matter some thought. “The bandana showed off your cheekbones better.”

“Oh, for god’s ... so, back when I was angsting over fitting into SG-1, trying hard to be what the team needed and desperate not to piss off the big bad colonel in any way, you were contemplating the angle of my cheekbones.”

“They were really something. Carter once told me she’d die for those cheekbones.”

Daniel shifted in his chair. “You talked about this with _Sam_?”

“Hey, she brought it up. I think we were talking about how your eyebrows had a life of their own at the time.”

“My eyebrows.”

“Defining feature, Daniel.”

“And just how much time _did_ you spend talking about my physical attributes exactly.”

“It’s not like we were obsessed or anything. Teal’c did once say you had eyes the color of Chulakian something-or-other, some precious gemstone that was used only in rare ceremonies of great import.”

“Oh, really.”

“Yup.” This was fun. Winding Daniel up was so damned easy sometimes. He’d had close on two decades of practice.

“Well, you may be interested to know that Sam and I thought you looked like a pencil when you wore your knit cap. And I told her I thought that you looked utterly fey wearing a boonie.”

Jack blinked. “Fey?”

“Fey.”

“I hated that boonie.”

“Preferred your entirely heterosexual ball cap?”

Jack turned his face skywards, pulling his sunglasses from the top of his head and settling them in place. The warmth of the sun was glorious. There was a special quality about the Minnesota sunshine. He loved it here, and he loved the fact that Daniel had grown to love it, too.

“I looked hot in that cap.”

Daniel picked his book up again and found his place. “Yes, you did, you bastard.”

Jack smiled. Life didn’t get much better than this -- a seat by the lake, his husband on one side and a cooler full of beer on the other.

“So, boonie, then, “ Daniel said after a few moments of apparently perusing the page of his book.

Jack reached for a beer and silently passed another to Daniel without asking the question.

“Every time, baby.”

 

ends


End file.
